Grave Much Graver
by Succatash
Summary: Three months after Buffy's death, her friends set out to bring her back. But will she be the same old Buffy? ...I appreciate reviews!
1. Chapter 1

A mist hung in the air over a Sunnydale graveyard late one summer evening. Droplets of water flecked the face of a girl there whose blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her feet were apart, her hands on her hips, and she was staring straight into the eyes of a vampire.

"Slayer," The vampire snarled, baring his dripping yellow fangs.

"The one and only," the girl replied.

He launched at her, grasping for her neck. She rolled backwards, sending the assailant headfirst into a gravestone. As he stood from the dizzying collision, the vampire received a kick in the jaw from a small black boot. He grabbed the foot and threw the girl flat on her back. He pounced on her, teeth flashing as he roughly twisted and trapped her slender arm underneath her back.

"You know, you should really see a dental hygienist about that little problem," she struggled to push him way as his face inched closer to hers. "For a guy with no breath, you've got a really bad case of halitosis."

Delight crossed the vamp's face as he descended upon the girl. Just as one of his canines sunk into her neck, she managed to free her arm and toss him away, catching a glimpse of his confused visage as he sailed through the air.

From the ground, the girl heard the familiar sound of a body being reduced to dust and looked up to see a gentle face draped in bright red hair.

"Are you ok?" Willow asked, rubbing the gritty dust from her hands.

"Willow," the girl said, "he injured me."

As Willow helped her up, the worsening rain rolled down the girls blonde head and trickled into the wound on her neck. It began to spark, blue-white lights emanating from the tear there. And she said in an unusually urgent and cheerful voice. "I need service."

Xander came running toward them and stopped, leaning forward hands resting on his knees. "This," he panted, "has gotten a lot harder without Giles."

"It doesn't help that Buffybot keeps letting herself almost get bitten," the three of them jogged towards the graveyard gate, Willow keeping the machine close. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong with her programming." They took shelter underneath a marquee left behind from a funeral previously that day. "And, almost every time I've seen her fighting a vamp, she gets pinned to the ground, if only for a second."

"I am programmed to behave exactly as Buffy Summers," Buffybot said matter-of-factly.

"Well, at least you've got her quipping at full capacity, right?"

"Wrong," answered Willow. "She just keeps insulting the vampires' breath, or well, lack of. She can't even smell!"

"Maybe she just doesn't have what it _stakes_," joked Xander.

Willow shot him an exasperated look.

"Or," Xander went on, "she doesn't have the _heart_."

"Xander!"

"Why so tense, Will? Usually you'd have the decency to laugh at a good Tin Slayer joke."

"Sorry, I'm just not big on inappropriate allusions to _The Wizard of Oz_ tonight…it's just…I just wish --"

"Face it, Will, you can't expect she-bot to fill the leather pants of the Slayer. The Slayer's power is mystical, she's just technology. Look," he searched her somber face, "I miss her too. I'd give my left eye to see Buffy again. Which, I'm hoping wont have to happen because --"

"Tomorrow night," Willow interjected, "it has to be. Mercury's in retrograde, and --"

"Yadda, yadda, super witchy-slash-science genius speak. I know all I need to."

The rain let up, and they were soon back at the house on Revello Drive. Anya met them in the hall as they hung their dripping coats.

"Dawn's sleeping -- but look!" she held the thing in her hands out to Willow. "Shiny, brand-new Urn of Osiris. Well, both adjectives inaccurately describe it, but it's the real thing."

"Ok, thanks Anya," Willow said, handling the urn with care. She said to Buffybot, "C'mon let's go upstairs and I'll take a look at your neck."

"I thought she'd be more excited," said Anya as Willow's ankles disappeared up the steps. "I mean, it's practically autographed by Osiris himself. Did you see all the pretty little hieroglyphs on there?"

"I think Willow's wound a little tight about tomorrow night," Xander said, moving toward the kitchen sink and staring out the window. He felt two small arms slip around his waist.

"She's not the only one," Anya started to work the kinks out of his stiff neck.

"If Willow's nervous it makes me nervous. It could make the whole thing go ka-phooey. Willow's my best friend, and I have total faith in her, but you've seen how some of her spells can go wrong. Summoning trolls, making Giles blind, almost wedding Spike and Buffy--"

"Wedding!" shouted Anya and a startled Xander shushed her. She said in a quieter voice, "You still haven't let me wear this stupid thing!" She pulled her engagement ring from her pocket.

"I know, but we have to wait. If everything goes as planned, then we'll tell everyone."

"It will, Xander, Willow has gotten much better even in the last few months. She can speak to us using just her thoughts, for crying out loud. And she's managed to not vanish my cash register or endanger the money in any way lately."

"Still, Anya, this is different. She's talking about raising the dead."

Xander stood at the doorway of Willow's room and knocked.

"Come in."

He pushed the door open to see Buffybot sitting at the edge of the bed and Willow rummaging through her magic books and supplies.

"How're ya feeling, Robobuff?"

"Oh, much better! Willow serviced me!"

"Well…Good," Xander said.

"Ok, time for bed," said Willow walking over to the robot and powering her down.

"So, Will," he said to her hunched back as she continued to organize her materials. "Looking forward to the big day?"

"Yeah," she said distractedly. "What was Anya shouting about a minute ago?"

"Oh, nothing," Xander glanced at the door. "Look, Will, I just wanted to let you know that I have complete total confidence in your witchy abilities and I know you'll be a huge success tomorrow."

"Thanks, Xand. I knew I could always count on you."

"Yeah Will, and we're all counting on you."

* * *

No one asked where the blood that Willow poured into the Urn of Osiris came from. They knelt in the damp grass surrounding Buffy's grave, holding their long black candles, silent even as Willow dipped two fingers into the small urn and smeared the deep red liquid on her pale cheeks and forehead. The high, full moon cast pale ribbons of light and shadows over the faces of Xander, Tara, and Anya. Tara watched Willow concernedly, while Xander breathed deeply with closed eyes, and Anya stared at the ground in front of her. The air was heavy and the trees surrounding the grave site were still as if, like the three members of the circle, anticipating Willow's next move,

"Osiris," Willow's voice stabbed the still night, "Keeper of the Gate. Master of all Fate," she poured the contents of the urn, and the queasy sound of blood splattering on the cold, stiff ground accompanied her voice in the still night air.

"Before time, and after. Before knowing, and nothing. Accept our offering. Know our prayer -- Aghh!"

Long lacerations appeared on the witch's bare arms, and her own blood ran across her pale skin and dripped on the ground.

"Willow!" Xander cried.

"It's ok!" said Tara, with a worried expression similar to Xander's on her face. "She's being tested. She told me this would happen."

The atmosphere surrounding them began to stir, causing the trees to groan and hiss.

Willow raised her voice over the whispering leaves. "Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people! Let her cross over!" Black pools occupied her eye sockets now and her whole body trembled. She felt her skin crawl, or rather felt things creep under it, but fought back the repulsiveness and stared intensely forward.

"Osiris!" Egg-sized bulges swam under her skin. "Let her cross over!"

The horrid urge to vomit overcame Willow and she fell forward, gripping the green grass, dry heaving. She retched and retched, grasping at her throat with one hand. She couldn't breathe, the tantalizing air swirled around her and blew her red hair about her face.

Just when she thought she would lose consciousness she felt something surging up her throat. A thick, hissing mass of scales slithered from her mouth and coiled onto the ground. Willow became encased in visible mystical energy, magicks were surging through her as she sucked in the night air and continued to bargain with the god of the afterlife.

"Release her!"

The snake hissed at Willow's companions and writhed about their knees and ankles but Willow was looking at the sky and her black eyes seemed to reflect it. Her outstretched arms looked as though she meant to carry a cadaver to the grave or a grooms bride over the threshold.

Xander started at a loud bird cry from above, but Willow did not lose concentration, even when the massive black bird swooped onto the gravesite. Its gnarly talons sank deeply into the squirming flesh of the serpent and it carried its victim away into the sighing trees.

"Osiris! I command you," Willow roared into the black abyss, let her cross over!" The small body ceased convulsing and with a cacophonous crash of mystical energy, wat thrust several yards through the air and lay limp and oddly angled in the damp grass.

Her three companions barely had time to react to the devastating event when the earth began to move. The ground in front of them began to churn and fold inside itself. Stunned, they all watched the center of the movement. And there, out of the writhing earth, something erupted. Not the soft, slender hand of their beloved friend but one that was gnarled and twisted with sharp black claws the size of meat locker hooks.

The appearance of the scabbed, gray flesh cued the stupefied trio to run.

By the time they staggered trough the ploughed dirt and Xander was lifting the frail form of Willow, the creature had unearthed itself. They trembled at the sight of the form that rose from the disturbed gravesite. It was just a black silhouette in the pallid moonlight, but its great claws flashed as it examined their sharp tips. The three friends endeavors to be silent were thwarted by the fear that rolled over them in waves. Tara couldn't help but whimper at the spectacle before her, this earth-covered creature that stunk of rotting meat.

They started to move for the cover of the trees but as Anya turned back to glimpse at the hideous being it threw its head back to the pale moon and unleashed an unearthly, ear-splitting shriek that penetrated every corner of the woods. It had spotted them.

With one swing of it's massive fist, it pulverized Buffy's gravestone into crumbling dust. Jumpstarted by the deafening screech, the three friends broke into a run, blood streaming from their ears, and a limp Willow in tow. The moving of her body had reopened some of the cuts on her arms and blood spattered Xander's jacket. The crunching of the demon's footsteps propelled the group faster through the vegetation.

Anya yelped as she planted face first in the dirt and struggled to extricate herself from the tree roots that tangled her feet. Tara turned back to see the monster gaining on Anya. It seemed to still be adjusting to its new mobility; however it leaped forward with another one of its devastating cries. Tara fell backwards but threw one arm in front of her and a jet of light pierced the creatures yellow eyes. Momentarily stunned, it fell back but did not release its grip on Anya's ankle. Tara pulled at her and the creature's claws cut into Anya's flesh but the two escaped its grasp.

Just then two bright lights invaded the woods and a sedan squeezed itself between the trees. The demon shied from the light but Tara and a hobbling Anya threw themselves both into the front passenger seat and the tires screeched as rubber gripped blacktop and the four friends sped down the road.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The moon seemed to chase the car down the deserted road as the gang sped toward town. Xander's heart pounded against his rib cage, much like the pistons of the engine which were causing the steering wheel to vibrate under his gripping fingers. The choking lump in his throat he couldn't compare to mechanics. He swallowed and felt Tara's trembling body squeeze between the two front seats to examine her unconscious girlfriend. With gentle shaking fingers she opened Willow's eyelids. Dead black pools in her eye sockets.

"Should we take her to a hospital?" Xander wasn't sure if it was he or Anya who asked the question.

"No," said Tara. "This is mystical. They couldn't do anything for her there. And," she felt Willow's small body, "nothing seems to be broken, as far as I can tell. We'll take her to the Magic Box -- see if we can find anything there to help her."

"What if that _thing_ follows us there? And destroys the shop?"

"Anya."

"I'm pretty sure it lost our scent when we got in the car."

"What _was_ that thing, anyway."

"I don't know," said Tara. "Scary though. And demon-y. And hungry. It definitely looked hungry."

"So…" Xander paused. "You think that thing _ate_ Buffy."

"Don't be stupid, Xander," snapped Anya, wincing. "That thing _was_ Buffy."

"N-no," Tara said, though she had been thinking the same thing herself.

"Big surprise. Another one of Willow's spells gone wrong --"

"Hey!" Tara said indignantly from her crouching position in the back seat. She stroked Willow's forehead, where beads of sweat had formed. "She did amazing."

"Wait a sec," Xander said as Anya rolled her eyes and reached for her ankle. "What do you mean that _was _Buffy? I know leather pants are one of the Slayer's trademarks, but last time I checked -- leather skin -- not."

At the Magic Box, they laid Willow on the research table, supporting her with assorted throw pillows.

"Revival potions on that shelf," Anya pointed in the right direction as she slumped in a cushy armchair. "Who knows what that thing is going to do running loose in Sunnydale." She looked toward the magic shop window as if expecting to see the monster peering back at her through the glass. "Wee need--"

"Buffy, I know" interjected Xander.

"I was going to say a plan, or someone strong." Xander looked slightly affronted. "Oh, it's not that you're not strong as far as carpenters go, honey, but I mean supernatural strong. And now that you mention it, Buffy would be a great asset to have right now." She glanced sideways at Willow's slumbering form. "If only the spell would have gone right."

"I told you," said Tara defensively from the bookshelf. "It wasn't her fault. I think something was interfering. The snake that Willow, you know, coughed up. It represents resurrection. So we know the spell was going right until then at least. But then that bird…"

"Made it into a chew toy?" Xander suggested.

"Aha!" Tara seemed to find the potion she was looking for and began gathering materials. Anya for once neglected to object to the larceny of the store's inventory and, on her way to the restroom, merely ambled past the witch who was pulling ingredients from the shelves . Soon the shop was fragrant with the brume of the potion Tara was concocting. The constituents bubbled soothingly and Xander felt slightly guilty that the smell of the potion was comforting to him as it was magic that had got the Willow and the rest of the group into this plight in the first place.

As Tara was finishing up the purple brew, Anya returned, still limping. Xander, who's nervous system had been on fire what seemed like the whole night and was finally ebbing to an ember, finally noticed the discord in her step. He looked at her questioningly.

"Twisted it running in the woods," she said, gesturing to her left ankle.

"Ok, I think it's ready," Tara propped the head of flaming hair up and tipped a goblet of the fragrant potion at the chapped lips of her lover. They all held their breath, expecting Willow to cough and sputter and ask for a glass of water, and when she did, they would breathe again. However, Willow's form remained as still as ever.

"This might be a bit of a stretch," Anya said after a while, "but I've heard of some mystical comas that can only be cured if the afflicted is kissed by someone who truly loves her. I know, Mr. tall, dark, and scary wasn't exactly cupid. And those claws definitely weren't cute little cherub arrows, but it's worth a shot."

"Oh, yeah, I've heard of those, too," Tara agreed with a slight tone of doubt in her voice.

The three of them surrounded the table like they had surrounded Buffy's grave a mere few hours before. Tara stood at Willow's head, watching her small face. It looked peaceful despite the beads of swear that formed on the forehead. If it hadn't been for the blackening of her eyes, representative of the magic that trapped her, beneath closed lids, she might have been sleeping. Tara bent so that her long hair tickled the cheeks of the prostrated girl and tears formed behind her eyes. And when their lips touched, several salty droplets fell onto the sleeping face.

Willow did not stir.

Tara laid her head solemnly on the table, dirty blond hair mixing with red. Xander paced the length of the sales counter and the gestures he made with his hands ranged from hopelessness then to looking like he was on the verge of revealing an epiphany then back to hopelessness. Anya moved to her usual spot on a stool behind the cash register, trying to ignore the pain in her leg. She picked up the cordless telephone as she watched Xander continue to shake his fists and gesticulate to no one in particular.

"Giles isn't answering," she said and started to punch more numbers into the phone.

"Giles!" Xander burst. "Oh God. What is Giles gonna say?"

"Probably that we're blithering fools who don't know sage from Lethe's Bramble," Anya suggested, cradling the cordless on one shoulder. "Only in much more British terminology."

From across the shop, a yelp was heard followed by the thuds of a chair tumbling to the carpet. Xander whipped around to see Tara standing at the research table. Her eyes were fixed downward on Willow and her breath came in shallow, shaking gasps.

"Tara?" Xander rushed over to hold her steady.

"Willow," Tara swallowed. "Her eyes…"

Xander turned his gaze to the face of his prostrated friend, Willow's expression remained unchanged.

"No, her eyes were open…and th-there was blood."

Xander contemplated Tara wearing a fearful expression and then looked back at Willow's pale resting face.

At that moment, the lights went out, causing them both to jump.

"Let's get out of here," said Anya from the light switches.

The bell over the shop's front door rang loud and coldly in the disturbingly quiet road. Xander carried his best friend precariously over the pavement, his eyes deliberately avoiding her visage. Anya leaned on a staff she had swiped from the Magic Box inventory and staggered toward the sedan which was parked haphazardly on the curb.

Clouds drifted over the bright moon, causing the pavement to reflect varying degrees of light. The shadows writhing on the ground gave the impression of figures moving in the sky. As Anya eased herself hurriedly into the front seat, a nightmarish bloodcurdling shriek sounded in the night. Anya glimpsed upward, wildly searching the black sky, thinking absurdly for a moment that the creature hovered above her very head. She slammed the door and yelled "Drive!" but before the words even reached her lips the car was squealing down the street.

Xander frantically attempted to close the distance between the Magic Box and the Summer's home in as little time as possible. It was after the sedan skidded around a particularly sharp corner when the car's interior was flooded with red and blue pulsating light.

"Shit," Xander swore.

"What are you doing?" asked Anya as Xander proceeded to veer onto the curb. "Keep moving!"

Xander looked at her incredulously.

"High speed chase! I've seen it on Court TV."

The engine groaned to a halt and the colored lights continues to rotate silently behind. Xander thought about how they would look to the officer that would soon be walking up to his window. '_Good evening officer. Oh, that's just my girlfriend and her huge magical Gandalf staff. Oh, and the unconscious girl in the back?'… _Silence buzzed around them and Xander tapped the steering wheel anxiously with his fingertips. Looking into the rearview mirror only burned a blinding red, white, and blue glare into his retinas.

After a few moments, Anya spoke up. "What's taking this guy so long?" she peered into the side view mirror. "Doesn't he know there's a -- Ahhhhh!"

With the force of a diving bird of prey (in this case, a considerably large bird) something smacked against the windshield. Blood poured down like a river and its many tributaries in the newly formed cracks in the shattered glass and two round blue eyes ogled at the passengers of the sedan. It took only a moment for them to recognize the blood stained uniform of a Sunnydale police officer and in an instant realized that the man sprawled on the hood of the car had just a minute before, inhabited the still-running vehicle behind them.

The interior of the car became filled with a cacophony of outbursts as Tara screamed and Anya shouted commands at Xander, who babbled incoherently. Such was the commotion that no one noticed the black pools that blazed on Willow's countenance.

In a frantic hurry to start the engine Xander inadvertently knocked the wiper blade switch and a horrible grinding sound added to the noise. Blood smeared on the windshield and the wiper blades swatted comically at the police officer's face. He slid slowly down the glass, leaving a trail of blood along the car not unlike a snail leaving his trail on a sidewalk, his flabby cheek squeaking all the way until finally his form slumped onto the pavement.

Xander turned to look at Anya and at that moment several long claws plunged through the ceiling of the car centimeters in front of his face. Snarling noises came from above them as the glistening claws twisted and shredded and dripped.

Instinctively, Anya wielded her staff and commenced to beat back the claws that threatened her fiancés visage. Magical sparks flew from the tip of the staff as well as natural ones as it clashed with the creatures sharp weapons. They bade back slightly but did not fully retreat. Instead, the other set punctured another spot in the cloth and metal of the roof.

At this intrusion, Xander brought the car to life and tore down the street, hoping that no one happened to look out their living room window. 'And why would anyone?' he thought. 'It's not like I'm playing Speed Racer on their street with the worlds loudest demon attached to my roof.'

Anya continued to beat the demon's claws with her staff and just as Tara was thinking that it looked as though she looked like she was playing a game of Whack-A-Mole Xander skidded around a corner on two wheels. The three conscious passengers feared for a second that the beaten-up sedan would tip on its side. This caused the demon standing atop the car to lose grip and slip sideways down the side of the car. Hanging onto the roof still by one of its massive hands, its face was no almost level with the backside passenger window and Tara managed to see a glimpse of its hideous head before it drew back its remaining fist and punched straight through the glass.

The rushing sound of the wind filled the car. The wind blew Tara's hair and stung her eyes but she shielded Willow from the monster. It snarled, and its yellow eyes stared into Tara's, who gaped paralyzed by fear. Its hand crept slowly into the car as it struggled to stay attached to the swerving vehicle. Gray-black skin stunk even in the rushing wind and its clawed glistening hand closed around Willow's ankle.

"No!" Tara screamed, but without reason because as soon as the monster made contact with Willow's skin, it let out one of its deathly shrieks that swallowed up the cry of the girl. It jolted as though shocked and immediately let go. It kicked and screamed twisting its claw in the roof of the car trying to extricate itself. And, taking a chunk of the roof with it, it detached itself and disappeared into the night.

Arriving at the Summer's home, Anya threw open the front door, allowing Xander to carry Willow in. She watched he and Tara scramble up the steps with Willow in tow. She turned around and jumped.

Spike was shuffling in from the living room, looking tired and pasty, even by vampire standards. "What's going on," he inquired, peering up the steps.

"Um, nothing," Anya replied. Then she abruptly put on a show of yawning and stretching. "Xander and I are just going to sleep here tonight and, uh…we plan to have sex."

"Alright, then," he said, donning the characteristic leather duster.

"You can go now," said Anya, standing awkwardly in the hall.

And, giving her one last doubtful glance, he opened the front door and strode into the night.

*************

Author Note: If you like this story, please review. I would really like to continue it and your reviews might be just the motivation I need to. On that note, also please feel free to let me know if you dislike it and why :]


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